


a nest in which to keep each other warm

by tortallan (ragatil)



Series: No Matter The Wreckage [4]
Category: Spinning Silver - Naomi Novik
Genre: F/M, Irina seeks advice, Miryem's mom has a name but it's not relevant to this fic, Pregnancy, all important conversations should happen in the bath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragatil/pseuds/tortallan
Summary: Irina is worried about things that doctors cannot explain to her - namely, how she will feel about her child.
Relationships: Irina & Magreta, Irina & Miryem Mandelstam
Series: No Matter The Wreckage [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915711
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	a nest in which to keep each other warm

In the fifth month of my pregnancy, I fainted during an outing with Vassilia, and was promptly ordered to bed for the remainder of my confinement. It made me furious. Not only did I have to endure the bloating, and the vomiting, and _hair_ in places there didn't used to be hair, but now to endure the indignity of being forced away from my role in the state? I held rage under my heart like a pearl of ice, hard and perfect and as crystal clear to me as the changes happening in my body were not.

To his credit, Mirnatius willingly and competently took on the responsibilities I was forced to resign. He was so eager to keep me healthy, in fact, that he had become a better ruler than anyone had ever expected of him. He went on hunting trips with Casimir, though I knew he hated them. He walked the lower town and let the burghers ask him questions. When he returned to our bed every night, he answered my many questions with great patience (for the most part). I could tell it was wearing on him, though.

For his part, he wanted to be kept up to date on every part of my pregnancy. I found that he was not squeamish in the slightest. When I was confined to my bed, he called three of the most celebrated midwives in the city to him and interrogated them with a zeal that they clearly did not think was proper. What sort of discharge should I expect? What could I take for my heartburn? As I grew larger, how could he help me in the bathroom?

Despite being _very_ well (perhaps too well) informed, and being under the best possible care, I was afraid. I had no mother to advise me on my pregnancy, none of my lady's maids had been pregnant, and Magreta also had no experience in that arena. While Mirnatius knew seemingly every technical detail of my pregnancy, I wanted to talk to someone about the parts that were harder to quantify. How badly would it hurt? What if I didn't love the baby enough? What if I died?

I could have sent for my stepmother. Common sense told me to send for her.

Instead, just before the spring started, I sent for Miryem. She arrived at my palace in plain clothes with her mother and that peasant woman to whom I had given a bit of forest. I met them in my bedchamber, sprawled uncomfortably out on a divan.

"Miryem," I said, my heart lifting as she entered the room. I held out my hand - I had been strictly ordered not to stand to receive anyone short of God. "I'm so glad to see you."

"It's good to see you too," she said, warmly. "May I introduce my mother, Panova Mandelstam, and my friend Wanda."

"Your majesty," said Miryem's mother, dropping a deep curtsey. Wanda followed a beat behind.

"Thank you. Please sit," I said, gesturing to the rest of the furniture. Servants swept forward with strong hot tea, soft little rolls, and some ginger candies for me. I picked up a candy so everyone else could serve themselves and shooed all my attendants out of the room.

Miryem and I chatted for a moment or two. She and her lord husband would be going back to the Staryk realm within the month.

"We really must figure out some way of communicating," I told her. "I will clearly be unable to cross over-" gesturing to my belly - "But I would like to keep in touch."

"I'll talk to my lord," Miryem said. "He figured out a way to monitor sunset here - there must be some kind of way for him to monitor a slate of messages or something."

"Fascinating," I said, and meant it. I wondered if this was a bit of magic that would survive in Lithvas- it would be very useful for visits of state. There was silence for a moment as I sucked on my ginger candy and the peasant woman put away another teacake.

"May I ask, your majesty, how far along you are?"

"Five and a half months."

"And how are you feeling?"

What on earth was I to say? That I felt like a whale and had heartburn constantly? That I was scared witless but knew there was no turning back?

"My doctors assure me that my condition is quite normal, and the pregnancy is progressing as expected for the most part," I said as diplomatically as I knew how. "I frankly have no reference for this sort of thing."

"So Miryem said," said Panova Mandelstam. There was another awkward silence, and I pretended not to notice that Miryem kicked her mother's ankle as I sipped some tea. Panova Mandelstam squared her shoulders and looked at me with eyes that were heartbreakingly warm and kind.

"Your majesty, my daughter tells me you want advice from a mother. I have only had the one, but I believe she turned out quite well-" Miryem blushed and looked very pleased - "and I promise to keep everything said between us in the strictest confidence."

Panova Mandelstam nudged Wanda with her elbow. In a very quiet voice, the peasant said, "My mother had six babies. Me and my two brothers survived. I helped her deliver some of the... passed ones. I, too, will not tell anybody what we talk about here."

A double blessing, then - one from a mother I trusted, and a peasant who knew how wrong it could all go. I was thoroughly sick of midwives speaking platitudes. I wanted the truth.

"I have so many questions," I confessed, and started asking.

* * *

When the Mandelstams and Wanda Vitkus left, it was with a promise to attend on me whenever I called, and especially at the moment of the birth. My heart was made easy by this promise,and by all the knowledge and advice delivered with gentle frankness.

Mirnatius was late to bed that night - he had been detained by a meeting - so I decided to take a bath. The warm water was one of my only true pleasures these days, and since I could not have the pleasure of hearing of my kingdom I took comfort in floating in the lightly scented water.

Magreta ran a comb through my hair with exceeding gentleness while I soaked. Her soft touch forced the last question out of my mouth, the one I had not been able to bear to ask my guests earlier.

"Magreta?"

"Yes, dushenka?"

"What if I don't love it?"

"Love what?"

I swallowed. "The baby," I whispered. "What if I don't love it?"

Magreta's hands stilled and she scooted around to look me in the face.

"Why on earth would you not love your child?" she said, more curious than upset.

"My father did not love me," I said, quite reasonably I thought. "And - if I'm honest, Magreta... I don't feel ready for this. I don't want to hate my child for a situation that isn't their fault."

"Ah, well, you will not make the same mistakes as your father," said Magreta, her eyes steady with warmth and faith. "And it's easy to learn how to love someone. I learned to love you, and here we are."

A wave of emotion welled up within me and, to my embarrassment, I started to cry. Magreta clucked a little and laid a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"Put that silly worry out of your head, dushenka. You have done the miraculous against all odds. Choosing to love a child - your child - will be much easier than what you have passed through to have it."

This sank into my heart and warmed the cold ball of fear and anger that had been living just under my ribs for over a month. And then I wept from gratitude, for the unconditional love of a woman who didn't have to choose to love me, and whose love would teach me how to love my child in turn.


End file.
